Joga Bonita

2:58 PM

The beautiful game.


Also an instant realization that my 30 year old body does not match my 20 year old spirit. My mind knows how to play the game, but my legs just don't follow suit. I was frustrated and happy all in the same! Happy to still be able to play the game that I've always been in love with, yet completely frustrated with how I was playing.

Gone are the days of practicing five days a week. Gone are they days where practice is the most time consuming thing in my life. Gone are the days that I can eat whatever I want because I practiced for 2+ hours.  Days of every  touch being slightly off, but not horrible are what it has become. It's frustrating when your feet and legs cant do what your brain wants them too! 

Comparing myself and skills to 10 years ago is not fair, but it is reality. I remember that I was better. Instead I need to be grateful I can wake up, use my legs, and still find a team to play on (at this ripe 'old age of 30)!

The lovely older women who run this tournament are inspiring! Wrinkled skin and gray hair and all, still out there playing the beautiful game. I can only hope to be able to do that when my time comes!

Blessed beyond words, to still have my parents come out and support Shell and I. It never gets old having my parents support and cheer for me. Not many can say this, which is why I say this to highlight how grateful I am, not to brag or  be showy. 

A cooler packed of orange slices and Gatorade, just as if this was a tourney when we were in high school. The nostalgia of it all and because its a beautiful game, make playing soccer in my 30s that much more special.

Finding a true passion for something doesn't happen for all. So for that, I am thankful for the beautiful game...


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